


Doppleganger

by kooili



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Jealousy, Weekly Berena Fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 08:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: A familiar looking patient on the ward forces an appearance of the green-eyed monster.





	Doppleganger

“What’s going on?” 

Bernie slowed down as she reached the nurses’ station. A quick glance around the ward as she stepped onto it confirmed that there hadn’t been any new patients since she left. And yet there was a buzz of excitement in the air. She’d been in theatre with a liver repair for most of the morning but from the way the staff were whispering amongst themselves, it was obvious that something had happened in her absence. 

Fletch nodded towards a side room. “VIP admission. She was brought up fifteen minutes ago and went straight in there. No unauthorised access except for essential personnel, per instruction.”

A frown crossed Bernie’s face. “Very cloak and dagger. Who’s giving the instructions?” she asked, looking round.

“She’s gone now but she looked official. Power suit and serious glasses with an entourage of trench coats in tow. Apparently the patient has her own private doctor but she’s stuck on a different plane. Something to do with time zones I think,” Fletch answered with a shrug. “We are apparently the next best option.”

“How comforting to know,” Bernie replied drily. 

Fletch chuckled. “Ms Campbell gave them an earful about bypassing the ED but one look at the patient and she took her in straightway.”

Bernie widened her eyes. “Sounds bad. Maybe I should go see if Serena needs a hand.”

Fletch shook his head. “I’d say no - she looked like she’d seen a ghost right enough, but that isn’t surprising considering the resemblance.”

“Resemblance to what?” Bernie asked. 

Fletch lowered his voice mysteriously. “It’d be easier if you took a look yourself but Ms Campbell left strict instructions that no one else is allowed in while she’s examining the patient.” 

“Oh really?” An eyebrow arched and Fletch was left with the sight of Bernie’s back as she covered the distance to the side room in a few quick steps. The door was shut, a shade drawn over its small window. She briefly considered knocking before dispelling the thought - she was co-lead and entitled to check on any patient as part of her remit, if she saw fit.

Serena was standing by the side of the bed, so deep in conversation with the occupant that she barely noticed Bernie’s entrance. The patient was still in her street clothes - a khaki military trench and dark pencil trousers. Her white shirt, stained with dark brown smudges - dried blood, Bernie assessed quickly - was laid open from sternum to waist. Whatever the woman was saying had Serena’s full attention and Bernie’s presence went unnoticed. She watched as her co-lead listened intently, smiling at something the patient had said as her fingers worked, palpating the abdomen as they massaged gently just below silk-clad breasts. 

“Everything all right?” Bernie asked.

Serena pulled up, a look of surprise on her face, almost stammering. “Bernie! I thought you were still in theatre.” 

“Finished fifteen minutes ago, even though it took a little longer than expected. There was damage to the pancreas as well but the patient’s in recovery.”

“Good,” Serena replied, almost distractedly. Bernie took a step forward and had a clearer view of the patient. She was a slim woman, blonde, about their age, with a fit physique. The only blot on it was a large dressing on her left side. Bernie’s eyes drifted towards the trolley beside the bed and a heavy belt laid on it with what looked very much like a holstered sidearm attached.

“Do you need a hand with…” Bernie trailed off, waiting for Serena to elaborate.

Her co-lead shook her head rapidly. “No, no, I have everything under control here.” Serena’s tone was a little too bright in Bernie’s opinion, almost as it she was eager to get rid of her.

“Are you sure?” Bernie tried again.  

“Yes, absolutely. You could you finish up that report that HR has been hassling for if you’re looking for something to do,” Serena answered before turning back towards the bed.

The patient cleared her throat and signalled Serena forward before murmuring something into her ear. Whatever she said must have been both amusing and embarrassing because it drew a burst of laughter and a flush onto Serena’s cheeks. 

“Yes, guilty as charged. Now, let’s have a look at this,” Serena pulled gently at the tape holding the large dressing in place, “and make sure that it’s sutured properly. We don’t want to leave you with a nasty scar, after all.”

Bernie caught a smile on the patient’s face as she drew a deep breath and stretched out to allow Serena easier access. Something stirred in her gut, vaguely familiar and disconcerting enough to make her breathe in sharply. “Looks like you have everything under control. I’ll get started on the paperwork.”

She paused for a moment, hoping for a response, but Serena had either missed the tightness in her voice or was simply too preoccupied to care. Hands clenched and stuffed inside the pockets of her scrub top, Bernie exited the side room and headed straight for the office, the knot in her chest growing heavier, making her quicken her steps. There was no denying what the gnawing feeling was and - for once - she was glad for the distraction of pointless paperwork. 

* * *

Bernie pulled her eyes away from side room for the umpteenth time and forced herself to plaster them onto the screen in front of her instead. The report was due before the end of the day and it wasn’t going to write itself. It was hopeless, of course - she had been trying to read the document for the past twenty minutes and hadn’t gotten past the first sentence, her attention drifting back to that closed door across the ward each time.

_ Pull yourself together, Wolfe. Stop staring before you get caught. You promised Serena that you’d have the report done. _

Serena.

Her co-lead and closest friend. 

Bernie closed her eyes and sighed. That was not an incorrect description of their relationship - just insufficient. Serena Campbell had been at the centre of her thoughts since the moment they met and, in the past few months, had turned up without warning or planning permission to build a permanent residence in her heart. If only she had the courage to admit it out loud and do something about it. 

_ Do what exactly, Berenice? Declare your undying love for your dyed in the wool heterosexual, straight as a rod colleague and ruin your relationship? _

She sighed again and slumped back into her chair. No, that would be a recipe for disaster and she couldn’t bear losing Serena as a friend. If that was all she could have, that would have to do. 

A soft rustle made her look up.

“Bad time?” Fletch asked, leaning up against the door frame.

Bernie straightened herself before replying. “No, what? Why do you ask?” 

Fletch shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’ve been staring daggers at that door for the past twenty minutes.”

Bernie felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It isn’t rocket science. Not with the way you’ve been giving her the heart eyes. Serena isn’t here so you can stop pretending.”

Just like a child caught with her hand in the biscuit tin, Bernie stared back at Fletch open-mouthed for a long moment as she tried to form a response, before clamping it back shut when she realised she didn’t have one. 

Fletch shook his head and grinned. “You should tell her.” 

“And disappear into some random corner across the world right after? Sure, why not?” Bernie answered with a roll of her eyes. 

Her response drew a loud chuckle from the nurse. “You say that at the same time you’re getting your knickers in a twist over a random stranger.”

“That random stranger seems to have her besotted and distracted. Guess we now know what Serena Campbell’s type is.” 

Her answer was a loud sigh followed by a dramatic eye roll. “Do you really not see the resemblance? No, wait, I think the phrase I’m look for is spitting image.”

Bernie was about to disagree when something caught her eye and she froze. Fletch turned to follow her line of sight. “Speak of the devil.” He pushed himself away from the door and headed back onto the ward but not before mouthing  _ tell her _ to Bernie as he left. 

Serena was heading towards the office and Bernie found herself looking for something to distract her. She fixed her eyes firmly on the screen and picked up the first thing her fingers landed on, a pencil.

“How’s it coming along?” Serena asked as she breezed into her side of the office and sat down.

Bernie took a deep breath before meeting Serena’s gaze. “Getting there. Not exactly the most exciting read.”

Serena’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “They don’t tend to be page turners in my experience.”

“No,” Bernie agreed, twirling the pencil between her fingers. “You’ve definitely drawn the longer straw with the mystery patient.”

Serena raised an eyebrow at Bernie’s description before nodding in agreement. “I’ll do the next boring piece of paperwork to make up.” 

“How’s your VIP anyway?” Bernie asked as nonchalantly as she could. 

Serena leaned back onto her chair as she answered. “Wound to the left side of the abdomen but it missed all major organs so she should be fine. I had to re-do the stitches though. Whoever did them in the first place did a haphazard job and it’d be a shame to leave her with a nasty scar.” 

Bernie felt the gnawing irrational jealousy rear up again. “No, couldn’t have that.” 

“She appreciated it, as expected,” Serena said. “Not that a scar would make a difference.”

“I don’t know if I agree - most attractive people mind how they look and she’s not bad looking, I suppose. If messy hair and gangly limbs are your things.” Her tone was hard and more than a little resentful, the monster within growing arms and legs.

Serena quirked an eyebrow. “That’s a rather strong opinion considering you’ve only been in the same room as her for less than two minutes.”

“I’ll defer to your evaluation if you disagree, of course,” Bernie countered, eyes dark with jealousy. “Since you’re the one with the up close and hands on experience.”

Serena stared at Bernie for a long moment as she digested the acerbic response. “Is she yours?” 

“My what?” 

“Type,” Serena answered. “As you described her so succinctly.”

“I, uhm…” Bernie stuttered, caught off guard by Serena’s question, but she could tell from the look on her co-lead’s face that she wasn’t going to be let off without answering. “Not really. Dark haired and curvy would be my choice.” The next words left her mouth before she could stop herself. “Like you.”

She could swear that Serena’s eyes darkened and Bernie wondered for a moment if she’d said too much. 

“I shall take that as a compliment and hope that Kate is right.” Serena remarked, getting out of her chair and crossing to Bernie’s side of the office, planting her backside on the edge of the desk right next to her. She raked her eyes deliberately up and down Bernie’s figure before looking her in the eye. 

Bernie gulped and blinked, relieved to see Serena still there when she opened her eyes and wasn’t a hallucination. “Who’s Kate?”

“The patient. Her partner who brought her in said that she’s in some kind of military or government organisation. Insisted that I treated her personally so that we could keep her identity incognito. A fine woman, very perceptive.”

“Oh?” Bernie replied, for lack of anything better to say. 

Serena hummed as she nodded. “Took her no time to deduce that tall, blonde and disheveled is exactly  _ my _ type.” She inched closer and was by now deep into Bernie’s personal space, resting a hand alongside hers so that they were just millimeters apart. “Unfortunately for her, I already have a thing for a certain long-legged blonde with messy hair and Kate doesn’t hold a candle to her.” 

The hand edged forward and they touched. That merest of contact sent a wave of electricity up Bernie’s body and her pulse quickened. 

“Anyone I know?” Bernie all but croaked her question.

The look in Serena’s eyes was unmistakable as she held her breath and took the leap she’d been wanting to, threading their fingers together. The grip tightened and Bernie was halfway out of her seat when Serena leaned forward. A hand buried itself in the nest of messy curls and lips met, tentatively at first but deepening quickly. Bernie sank back into her chair and immediately found herself with a lapful of Serena, smiling lasciviously at her. 

“This is nice,” Serena murmured, wriggling her backside against Bernie’s thighs, settling in. “I hope that I’m not being too forward.”

Bernie groaned softly, powerless to stop it, acutely aware of how very little fabric separated the heat radiating from between her thighs from Serena’s backside. “Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks.”


End file.
